


At Bat

by refuted



Category: Rookie Blue
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-08-21
Updated: 2013-08-21
Packaged: 2017-12-24 05:15:25
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 937
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/935812
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/refuted/pseuds/refuted
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Gail takes Traci's advice and tries for happiness. My take on what happens after Gail and Holly meet at the batting cages.</p>
            </blockquote>





	At Bat

**Author's Note:**

> I only started watching Rookie Blue this weekend, which leaves me with little insight on Gail except for the fact that I love her to pieces.

Gail half lies when she says she doesn’t do sports.

She grew up getting footballs thrown at her and Steve wouldn’t let her get away with a half-assed spiral but baseballs and bats render her useless. She hears Holly push the button from behind her, the machine warms up, releases a puff of air and Gail feels her body tense, like sitting in a rollercoaster and waiting for the drop. She white-knuckles the bat, clenches her teeth, but the ball comes at her faster than she anticipates and she tries for a second, a quick second but the bat launches out of her hands and she shrieks out of reflex.

Holly laughs, loud and full, makes some quip about taking her comment back. “Actually it might kill you,” she breathes out, glasses sliding down and Gail can see Holly’s eyes, brown eyes gleam at her. Gail offers her a crooked smile behind the helmet bars and she lets herself think for a moment that yeah, she’s happy.

She walks away from the cages with a jump in her step she hasn’t felt in a while. A long while, and maybe it’s blowback from her close encounter with a baseball but a smile creeps up on her, mouth curving up and it reaches her eyes as city lights blink at her through the parking lot. She finds Holly’s truck and leans back, hands shoved in her pockets.

Holly said the experience would be cathartic, bat vibrating between her palms when it makes contact. Maybe just hitting things, and Gail never really makes it that far anyway, but she agrees, feels a small hint of catharsis as she heaves one deep breath, shifting her weight from one leg to the next.

Holly tasted sweet. A little bitter, sharp touches of wine at the edge of her lips, but mostly sweet, soft, and strawberry. It was brief, almost liminal, but Holly shut her up. She shut her up too well, left her speechless and stupid. Gail tried small talk, managed to pull out a few questions out of her ass and came off awkward and stupid anyway, but Gail Peck doesn’t do speechless. She does snarky and cutting and tiptoes on the side of mean-spirited because she's always liked the bite of not having anything nice to say and saying it anyway. But Holly stirs something like friendship in her even though friends don’t leave friends speechless when they kiss them and leave to dance.

At least they leave the wine.

She doesn’t see Holly come up next to her, but feels the truck take her weight as she leans back against it.

“So, you don’t like people. Or weddings, or happy, fuzzy, warm things. Or sports. You’re a cop and you don’t like sports," she says with an undercurrent of incredulity in her voice and Gail turns to face her, gives her best rendition of Peck nonchalance. “Tell me, what do you like?”

Gail stays silent and still a moment as she holds her gaze and returns it with a want she hasn’t let herself feel as of late.

She takes a step in front of Holly, hands reaching out to hold her waist as she pushes her up against the truck. She watches her and takes a moment to revel in the response as confusion registers on Holly’s face, jaw slackened, brows drawn together. Gail kisses her softly, slow, brief and she still tastes like strawberry. She can feel Holly stiffen for an instant before she complies, responding with parted lips and a quiet hum at the back of her throat. Holly’s hands move to her neck, but Gail pulls away. Payback, she thinks smugly. “You’re not half bad, doc,” she says without missing a beat, mouth curling into a grin behind pursed lips.

Gail takes a half step backwards,  leaning against the truck, head resting on the driver’s side window and she watches the stars like she’s never seen them before. Her pulse comes up to her ears and she feels a heat run up her body when all Holly manages is a quiet stare. Gail glances at her, thinks she sees Holly crack a smile, but it’s dark and she’s thankful, because her cheeks pulse red and warm. 

“I wish I could say the same about you and that bat,” Holly muses finally, shifting to lean on her shoulder. “You catch bad guys for a living and you flinch at a ball.”

“Bad guys make bigger targets. They’re bulky and they’re slow and they generally run away. That thing was flying at me at 90 miles an hour!”

Holly laughs. “Half that, you wimp.”

“Whatever. You’re going to take that wimp comment back when I knock that goddamn ball out of the park.” She pushes off the truck and begins to make her way back to the cages when Holly takes her by the wrist and pulls her back. “Easy there, Babe.”

Gail smirks and Holly catches herself, eyes widening. “Ruth, I meant Babe Ruth...best baseball player of all time? You know what never mind,” she pauses, gauging Gail’s expression. “How about a drink?”

Holly pulls out her keys, twirls them around her index finger, cocks her head and smiles sheepishly. “Save you the embarrassment of going back there.”

“Yeah, yeah, you’re just scared I’ll throw that bat again.”

Holly grins. “Maybe.”

“You’re buying.”

She nods, shrugs her shoulders and turns, getting into the truck and Gail follows suit. The car starts with a low rumble and as Holly pulls out of the parking lot, Gail says to herself that yes, she really is happy.

 


End file.
